High Flying Adored
by AmandaFaye
Summary: To prevent Walter Highlander season 5 from turning Sarah, Duncan, Methos and Joe go to extremes.


High Flying Adored "Look at her Macleod," Walter gushed gleefully. "Just look. She's perfect. Sarah is Evita. Santa Evita. When she takes the stage, you don't see the cruel, ruthless woman that history portrays, but the woman who won a man's heart and the heart of a country. Listen to her. Have you ever heard such a soulful Don't Cry for Me Argentina?" As the Immortal actor/writer/producer/ and so on and so on and on continued to spout purple prose describing his latest discovery, the Highlander had to focus to keep from wandering off into a safe corner of his mind, where he couldn't hear the voice of a man who once forced him to portray Kate, the shrew.

"Wonderful. Absolutely," he said in the same tone one adopts as one does when on the bad end of a long, drawn out phone conversation you are too polite to hang up upon and merely say "uh huh" at strategic moments. Though he would admit, Sarah Williams did have a certain magnetism that was visible even on a video tape.

Pity that soon, most likely, she'd be forced to retire, once she died. Being in the public eye was not wise for an Immortal for very long, something Sarah had the potential to be. Deja Vu snapped Mac back to the present.

"Don't you dare."

"What?" his old sometimes friend asked too innocently.

"Warren, she's only twenty something. Killing her now would be-"

"Perfect. She's at the height of her-"

Mac grabbed his shoulder in a painful grip. "I believe we have had this talk before. And I told you what I'd do then. "

"Sarah is not Claudia, and Claudia is doing just beautifully. I wonder if she'd be interested in providing piano for the production?"

"Knew I should have taken his head to shut him up when the chance was there. Ach. But, the thought of that - that- being in my head for ever. I'd go mad. "

"She's changing songs, pay attention," Walter instructed.

Truly, Mac had little choice. The young woman commanded that all eyes be upon her. As the song wove around her, Eva Peron vanished, replaced by Christine Dae.

Mac's eyes narrowed. It almost seemed like she was speaking to one specific person there.

The music shifted again, turning Christine into the girl from Jekyll and Hyde. Then she was Lisa, of the same show, Then she was Yentl, the woman who dared. Her face turned sad, and Mary Magdalene came to life.

"One more."

Fiona of Brigadoon stepped into Sarah's body, but not the ordinary one. Waitin' for my Dearie turned into some kind of Highland rock song as Sarah belted it out. Then the tape came to an end, with Walter jabbering in the space it left. "Brigadoon is my next project. I'm reworking it for the modern audience with an upbeat, yet gothic score, such as Webber or Wildhorn are using. It's dark and angsty, not all this light and sweet stuff. I mean, look at it; two disaffected lost souls from the colonies find a paradise in the Highlands, a tragic love, denied dreams, murder, loss, and ultimate vindication. Of course, I'll have to rename it, but I was thinking something like- "

"So you got me over here to talk about a new project, not Sarah?" Mac interrupted.

"In a manner of speaking. I won't turn Sarah until after the show's first run. Claudia taught me something; being made Immortal throws one of one's game a bit. I can't have her ruin my comeback with angst over not dying."

For once, Mac was grateful Warren was inherently selfish.

"Unless... no, bad plan. This way is best. And of course, you are the perfect Charlie," Warren went on blithely.

"Pardon?" Mac gaped.

"Yes. You've got a natural Scottish accent, so I won't have to train you to sound like a two hundred year old Scot singing to his love."

"Walter, I canna sing."

"Of course you can. Anyone can. It's just breath control and ennunciation. "

"I won't sing," Mac clarfied.

"Fine. I'll just shoot Sarah next time I see her," Walter snapped back.

"That's blackmail," the Highlander protested.

"Yes. It is isn't it? "  
"Fine, but when I scare the audience into bolting for the door, it's your problem," Macleod sighed.

"Nonsense. You just need some training. And you did take Kalas, his talent is in you now. Breathe from the diaphram, inhale, exhale. A B C D-"

They were interuptted by a knock on Walter's office door, and the girl from the tape poking her head inside. "Mr-"

"Walter, my dear," he corrected.

"I got the message you wanted to see me?"

"Yes. I wanted to tell you, you got the part of Fiona," he smiled, escorting her inside. Mac could feel the pre Immortal buzz strongly as it came from her. She's be a moving target the moment she woke from death. Her quickening was powerful already.

Walter had turned to his old friend. "Mac, this is Sarah, our Fiona. Mac is our chief angel, fiancier. He's believed in my work for, it seems like centuries. He's also going to be Charlie Dalrymple. "

She turned a sunshine smile on him. "Oh, great. Charlie has such a wonderful song. Come to me, bend to me"  
Walter cut off the lovely song before it could be sung, "Well, I'm not sure that song will survive my reworking, but I'll see what I can do. "

Mac rose. "It was nice to meet you, Sarah. I've got to run, Walter. Remember what I told you," he threatened.

"Of course, Macleod. Don't be an old woman. I know what I'm doing."

That was the scary part.

Far away, Sarah's voice echoed from a crystal, her image danced for two mismatched eyes. She grew up well, the watcher noted with pleasure. The ball spun, shifting focus to the man who was "instructing her" on how to carry off a tune. The king did not like the look in that one's eyes. Not a bit, but until he was sure of what was going on, nothing could be done.  
Two weeks later, the rehearsals for Highland Miracle were well under way. Walter was a brutal, ruthless director, and that alone kept the actors from collapsing into giggles as they tried to get out the overblown prose set to music. It did not help that Joe had managed to get a job as a music planner, and Mac could see his Watcher smirking in the shadows. Even Methos had shown up, winning the role of Jeff Douglas, a non singing, thank heavens, role that really was perfect for the cynical ancient. If Amanda or Fitz had shown up, Mac would have been sunk, not able to get through Walter's ridiculous mutation of a fine old show. Yet, even in that silliness, Sarah still shone as bright as any star, making her overly dramatic lines work.

During a break, Methos found Macleod. "I don't trust that director of ours as far as Joe can throw him," the old man stated bluntly.

"Me either. He wants Sarah, and he'll make sure he gets her, unless he's stopped. "

Methos nodded. "Best idea would be for one of us to turn on the charm and romance her, at least then she'd have twenty four hour protection. I'm sure Joe'd give her a day job, she'd be safe there. "

Mac's relationship with Amanda was in an on again stage, and it was one of those needy times of the beautiful thief. She'd kill Sarah herself if he tried to two time with her. "It's your play, old man," he conceded. "My romantic hands are full."

"Charming picture."

"Why are you so concerned?" Mac had to ask. This behavior was unusual for Methos.

He shrugged. "Been around you too long, I guess. Besides, I'm old enough to trust my feelings, and my feelings are that destiny has something major for Sarah. Walter interfering in the Game could make it messy. "

Mac agreed tacitly. "Well, she's alone now."

Methos located her with his eyes. "Right. You're sure she's not already fallen for you?" something he was used to, seeing his friend get the girl.

Ruefully, Mac grimaced. "She seems immune."

Two brows raised, but Methos took him at his word, sauntering over to where Sarah was taking a reading break. Softly, she hummed an unfamiliar song as the pages turned.

"Don't let the director hear you not eating, sleeping, breathing etc. whatever the bloody hell this thing is supposed to be," he reprimanded in mock sternness.  
She looked up, "Well, if you don't tell on me, I won't tell on you."

"For?"

"Whatever the bloody hell this thing is supposed to be."

"Gotcha. Okay, pax. " He folded his lanky form into a seat beside her. "Wondering if you could help me with a wee problem?"

She just looked in askance at him.

"If you haven't noticed, some of the characters are taking things too seriously. Mac is doing all he can to avoid going home with Bonnie Jean. I say, go for it. If Mac's girl catches her feeling him up, it won't be pretty, and neither will she be anymore."

"Blood thirsty aren't you? I hadn't noticed. 'Tommy' has left me alone."

"He's juggling his last two costars still; Lisa from Jekyll and Glinda from Wicked. Besides, Walter's eye is on you. But back to me, Meg is determined to snag me. And - I am not interested at all."

"She's pretty enough," Sarah said noncommitally.

"True. But I just lost someone, and probably won't fall in love or lust for a few more decades. Centuries even."

"How do I fit in?" she laughed, thinking he was exaggerating disgracefully.  
"Just be my beard, as it were. Pretend we're a couple."

"Why me?" Sarah asked, sensing there was more to it. "Don't think I haven't noticed the way you and Mac shadow me , Mr. Dawson too."

"Ever hear of Claudia Jardine?" When she nodded, he went on, " Walter made her his prodigy, nearly killed her. We don't want that to happen to you. Simple. "

"He seems - silly. Not dangerous."

"Looks can decieve, dear girl. Walter is not evil, but his foolishness can get you hurt, badly. Deadly badly."

There was no humor in his voice or face. Sarah had to believe him. "Why me"  
"If I could think like Walter, I'd be forced to commit myself to Bedlam. "

Sarah giggled. "Did you hear him nagging Mr. Macleod? 'Channel Callias -you Highland idiot'. Maria Callais was a woman, and opera singer. Not male musical performer."

Methos covered his eyes and muttered something in a dead language that sounded unpleasant. "What?" she asked.

"Just commenting on fools and -the word is not one I will use around a lady. Kalas. Of all the half witted, idiotic..."

"Chill, Adam. I doubt Mac will channel her. She might be alive, not sure."

"Let's hope, " he muttered darkly, remembering the mad monk and the dark quickening. He never wanted to see either again. Switching subjects with mercurial ease, he brightened. " You actually saw Dawson shadowing you"  
She nodded, wondering why that would produce a grin a mile wide. "Great. Anyhow, it'd mean a lot to Mac and I if you would let us keep an eye on you, and stay away from Walter."

"He's the director," Sarah reminded.

"Would you consider abdicating?"

"I'm not a quitter," she said firmly.

"Never heard discretion is the best part of valor, eh? It' s my favorite rule. Oh well. I'm used to stubborn people by now. Try not to be alone with him."

"Okay, but I won't promise not to be."

Methos waved it off. "Yeah, yeah. And try to keep Meg off of me? If I were going to chase someone, I'd try to take Mandy away from Mac."

"And I'd have your head, old man," a too pleasant voice said above them. Macleod. "Well?"

"Look up subtle sometime, Highlander," Methos groused. "She's not interested."

"Losing your touch?"

Sarah inserted herself in the good natured argument. "I'm still getting over a - an old, sad love. Walter is just the boss. I can take care of myself.''

As the Highlander opened his mouth to argue, Methos covered her hand with one of his, raising the other as if to stop Mac's speech. "Humor us. Please. It's the only way to shut him up."

"No romance?"

"You break my heart, darling, but no," Methos assured her. "Macleod?"

"Amanda would kill me."

"A potent threat, I assure you," Methos said with perfect seriousness.

Sarah shook her head. These two were just so darn likeable, not to mention that the big one, Mac was heaven to look at, and while Adam was not a dream walking, his lively wit and secretive eyes made him twice as charming and dare she say it, sexy. If only a certain man hadn't set her standard of ideal to a higher key, these two would be hard to choose between to love. "Guys, I appreciate this, but Walter's shown no real interest in me- romantically that is. "

"Romance isn't the worry, so much, " Mac admitted. "But there's more than one way to hurt you-"

"I gave her a bit about Claudia," Adam pointed out. "Not all," he added hastily. "I'd never do that, until the right time."

"You're losing me again," Sarah said.

The men exchanged telling looks; had she not seen an interview with the talented piano virtuosso a week ago, she'd have thought her dead.

"We'll give you answers, " Adam began.

"When we can," Duncan finished. "Right now, have you ever thought about learning sword play?"

"Not really," Sarah slowly answered, not sure how they got from A to N in one leap.

"You should. It'll help your dancing, not that you aren't a great dancer, "

Methos hastily told her. "You are- in fact, Mac can show you some really wonderful moves, flamenco with swords, y'know..."

"Not off the bat," he groused back. "Basics first. Then we can shoot for duende'. "

"Right. Is Connor's shop still where it was?" Adam agreed easily.

"It'd take a stick of dynamite to move him."

"Have you talked to Cory then?"

Mac shot him a disgusted look. "Never willingly."

"Guys--" Sarah softly reminded them she was still there.

"Right. Off to Connor's, one sword." Adam rose, bringing her to her feet with him.

"A sword," she half asked, half stated.

But got no reply beyond hustling her into Adam's -- Highlander jeep.

They drove several blocks to a less than obvious antique shop. Russell Nash Antiques Etc.

The door opened before they could even touch it. A giant of a man with hooded eyes stood in the half light of the waning day. "Still getting all the good women, I see," his throaty voice chuckled as if at an old joke with one of them. "Heh, heh."

Ignoring the jibe, Duncan pushed Sarah into the shop, politely. "Connor Macleod, this is Sarah Williams. Adam and I are keeping her away from Walter, as much as possible."

"Haven't you shut up that windbag yet?" Connor asked testily. "If I were you, he'd have been dead for even trying to put me in a skirt."

"He said it was like a kilt," Duncan whined.

"Only a blasted Sassenach would say that. And fer an English play, Duncan. Your da'd disown you."

"He already had."

"I'll just go and you can catch up on memories," Sarah tried, edging backwards. Connor was a bit much.

"Sorry, lass," he apologized. "Duncan and I have running arguments that last years between sentences. You came for a sword?""How--"

"He thinks he knows all," Adam drawled.

"But I'm right"  
"No, she came for a fan," the other retorted snippily. "Why else would we be here?"

Duncan left his two often insufferable friends, dragging Sarah with him to a display case of swords. Noticing one, he tapped the case, although having once been in the business knew how irksome that would be, "Connor. Do you have Rebecca's sword?"

Looking up from the fight, the first Highlander observed where his kinsman was, and nodded. "Aye. Amanda's gambling debts proved opportune. "

"It would fit Sarah well," Duncan remarked casually.

Connor gave the girl a look of appraisal. "Height is similiar. Both had and have a dancer's lines. "

"I can't afford--" she protested.

Connor looked insulted. "It's a gift." Seeing her abashed look, his tone softened. "Ach, lass. Forgive my gruffness." Turning, he called to the back. "Brenda, darling. Duncan brought us a guest. Would ya be a dear and take her in the office for a cup of tea? Mm? Maybe that chamomille peach stuff you got last week? Or," he turned back to Sarah, "something decently strong, Earl Grey"  
Paling at the thought of peach tea, she smiled bravely. "Ah, anything convenient," she replied as a smiling blonde woman came in, kissed Connor, nodded to his friends and began leading her towards an office just off the main room.

Though Brenda was charming in her own way, Sarah was distracted. The three men probably thought they were talking softly, but she could catch most of their conversation.

"I agree," Connor's sharply accented voice began, "Walter is the worse possible..." he faded, to pick up a few words later, "...but,he might be right to a degree."

"Do tell," Adam prodded sarcastically.

For a moment, his voice was nothing more than a burr, then, "... ye canna turn her world upside down tra la la. Do the words ... no' ma son.. Duncan?"

Ducan's voice was sharp, but Sarah's focus had been lost when Connor spoke. "turn ... world. .. tra la la" Memories flooded back, making her hand shake so that Brenda reached out to help her set the mug down before hot liquid splashed the girl. She rose, stepping out to chide the men for upsetting their guest. The next bit of talk was too low for her to catch, not that she really wanted to.

"We should not interfere," Methos insisted.

"Too late now, to honor your precious code," Connor argued. Unfortunately, the word 'precious' came out loudly enough for Sarah to hear.

Abruptly, she rose. "Sarah," Brenda hesitantly said, "Sarah. Whatever Connor said..."

Ignoring her, Sarah went to the door, yanking it open.

"Okay, how much is Jareth paying you?"

"Jareth?" they chorused. It would have been funny if not for a hundred reasons that it wasn't.

Impatiently, she waved a hand in their general direction. "Tall guy, weird hair-"

"She thinks your name is Jareth, Macleod," Methos drolly noted.

"Likes to use turns of phrase like turning the world, tra la la, and precious- what' next forever's not long?"

"No, the phrase is, Forever is today, " Methos helpfully informed her. "Queen. "

"Shut him up," Connor growled.

Sarah ignored all this. "I don't know how you met him, but I'm not going back and he'd damn sure better leave my brother alone."

"He?" Brenda asked, totally lost.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Jareth. Goblin king, don't pretend you don't know him."

"We won't," Methos assured her. "We do not, and I promise, it is not pretend."

Confusion clouded her visage. "But-- maybe he used a different name," she clung to the possibility desperately, trying to understand. Still, after so much time.

Connor nodded minsculely. "Aye. We're all familiar with that - custom. But the only person to hire me lately has been someone who wanted some medieval piece validated."

"I'd call Walter many things, but king, please. Not that," Methos sneered.

Duncan just nodded his agreement.

Sarah continued to shake her head.

Connor looked at the other two men. "As much as honesty pains you, old man, now's as good a time as any, before we're accused of worse. " He stopped.

"Brenda, did she say goblin?" The incredulity in his tone cleared any doubts

Sarah had, at least that he knowingly was deceiving her.

He went on, a slight smile betraying how much he was enjoying the moment. Duncan snorted seeing the gleam in his kinsman's eyes.

Drawing himself into a regal pose, Connor fixed Sarah with a stony gaze. "I am Connor Macleod of the Clan Macleod. I was born in 1542. I am Immortal."

"Oh, goody, he's had his thrill of the century," Adam mumbled.

Sarah's eyes shifted to Duncan. "You're a Macleod too - are you?--"

"I am Duncan Macleod, same clan. Different vintage. Fifty years younger."

Brenda was her next focus. "Sorry. Just married into it. Ordinary."

"Never that, lass," Connor valiantly disagreed.

Finally, she looked to Adam who just smiled self depreciatingly. "Just a guy. An Immortal guy. But nobody, really."

Yeah right, Sarah thought, but did not argue. "Let me guess, Walter is one of you guys."

"Every family has its bad apples," Adam cheerfully agreed.

"He's -- evil?"

"Just a pain in the - " Connor began, then remembered, ladies present, "neck. If we could get laryngitis, I'd arrange to have him infected regularly as a public service."

Sarah's lips twitched, but she controlled herself. "And how does this relate to me?" Silence. "I believe you said something about honesty?"

Duncan grimaced. "Some of us can sense those who are destined to be Immortal." He let that sink in, half hoping she'd get the drift and not make him say everything, half hoping she wouldn't jump to conclusions.

"Go on," her voice betrayed nothing.

"Not long ago, Walter met Claudia Jardine, and saw that she was one of us, only had not had her first death. So he wanted to kill her, so she'd be like us fully. And he did, but tried to control her, to use her. He almost destroyed her"  
"First death?"

"We don't become truly immortal until we die," Connor clarified, remembering his own first death, being cast from the clan as a demon. Meeting Heather and that popinjay, Ramirez. His 'brother'. "And after we come back, we can die again, and again, but we keep waking up again."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Sarah mused.  
"We've just told you the less bad part," Methos warned. "There is one way that will kill us, and there's no coming back from it."

"Should the head come away from the neck, it's all over," Connor finished.

"Decapitation? Like the guillotine?" Sarah looked ill.

"That works, which explains why the smart ones of us avoided France in the early part of the 1800's," Methos stated noncommitally.

Duncan gave him an irritated look. "It's not the usual way, normally heads are taken in sword fights."

"But - why?"

"I've wondered that myself," Brenda said pointedly.

"Because, there ..." Connor began.

"Can be," Duncan interjected.

"Only one," Methos finished. "In the end, there can be only one of us. When your sword connects with your adversaries neck, the power of the quickening is released, and everything they know, all their power becomes part of you. Plus all the power and knowledge they have collected from others and the power and knowledge of those they collected and so on and so on. In the end, the one will have the power of most of us, minus a few that were lost." No one filled in the name, Darius. It still hurt that the one of them who should not have ever been killed had been, and by a crazy mortal."

"Are you trying to say that I'm - I could be-"

"Yes," Connor replied. "Walter sees you as a new Claudia. He wants to spend eternity writing purple prose for you to perform." His disgust was evident.

"He doesn't want to kill me?"

"Not permanently, just the first time," Methos affirmed. "He's like a bad vampire book. Thinking that if he brings you across," his voice changed to a sneer, "you'll be bound to him forever. I think one of us called it linked and locked for eternity. All well and good, to an extent, but during the shock of the first death, you're more vulnerable. He would attempt to control you in that gap, persuading you that you don't need to learn to fight and he would protect you from the other players. "

"Players?" Sarah felt stupid, but she was genuinely ignorant.

"The game," Connor explained. "The whole process of taking heads and moving toward the gathering, when there will finally be only one. Walter would keep you dependent, vulnerable. Not for malice, but because he's stupid and selfish. The only reason he's survived this long is we're all terrified of getting a stupid quickening."

At this, the Immortals all sniggered a bit, paying no attention to Sarah and Brenda's glares. "What is a stupid quickening?" Brenda asked.

"Remember Darius? " Duncan asked.

"Heard the name"  
"For fifteen centuries, he was evil, then he had a light quickening at the gates of Paris. He was forever changed into a man of peace after killing a holy man, whom some say was the Apostle John."

"Then, there is the Dark Quickening, " Adam said very deliberately, staring holes in the younger Highlander.

"Jim Koltec, haiyoka of his Anazzazi tribe, the sin eater, was Immortal. He overflowed with evil, taking too much. It overwhelmed the good," Duncan's voice now had a very pained tone. "All the evil he tried to absorb into his light overrode that light, made him evil beyond measure. I had to kill him to stop him..."

"Then I very nearly had to do the same to you," Adam finished.

"Weren't you afraid of becoming evil too?" Sarah asked, now lost in the stories.

He smiled thinly. "It was not much of a danger for me. And that is a story not for today. Suffice it to say, Duncan was able to kill his Hyde and become Jekyll again."

"So what is a stupid quickening, " Brenda asked insistantly.

"Having all your wisdom overcome with the infernal idiocy of someone like Walter," Connor replied.

Sarah considered all this carefully. "Do I have to become Immortal?"

"Eventually, yes," Connor affirmed. "And it would be best while you are young enough to fight well. "

"Do I have to play the 'game?' "

A frustrated look crossed his face. "Some," his angry look focused on his kinsman, "try to avoid it. But no, not really. Unless you can move off planet or hide on Holy Ground forever."

"Was all that Walter could do to me try to keep me ignorant and focused on performing rather than protecting myself?"

Put so simply, it made all three men feel quite ridiculous. They nodded reluctantly.

"So, he can't really hurt me now that I know, unless there's something you aren't telling me"  
They were quiet, then Methos burst into laughter. "By jove, she's right. "

"I hope you three clowns aren't going to kill her now, just to prove some kind of point," Brenda commented.

"It wouldn't be-" her husband began.

"If she wants to die now, fine, but if she'd rather wait to join the game, isn't that what you two wanted for her. Isn't that why you put up with Walter?" Brenda insisted.

"She's right," Adam nodded.

"Okay, we'll wait," Duncan agreed. "Unless"  
Sarah looked a bit pale, but said, "Yeah. I'm in no hurry to take heads. " To emphasize, the girl shuddered. "Are there many women Immortals?''

"Some are more dangerous than the men," Methos informed her, sending Duncan another telling look. "Chivalry is a very dangerous virtue."

"Is Mr. Dawson Immortal? How do you know who is and isn't. You three don't look unusual." Shock past, her questions began to come rapid fire.

"Joe's a Watcher. A secret bunch of observers who," Duncan started to explain.  
"Observe and record and never interfere," Adam finished in a sing song voice that ended in a snort. "Ha. FYI. You don't know they exist, dear girl"  
"We identify each other by the buzz," Duncan continued. "It's- I canna explain it until it happens."

"It feels like the world has turned upside down," Connor offered.

Sarah had gone pale again. "You still say you don't know him?"

"We know many hims," Adam told her. "Which one?"

"Jareth."

Now, Adam shook his head. "I have recorded the name of every Immortal identified on Earth. Not one has that name or alias."

"Who is he?" Brenda asked, then seeing a couple of window shoppers, crossed the room and put up the closed sign.

Sarah looked uneasy."You'll think I'm nuts."

"We just told you about people living for centuries, millenia even, running around lopping off heads and blue dyed fiends skuling around watching them for kicks. How nuts is that?" Adam countered.

Sarah looked unconvinced. "Do you doubt what we say is true?" Adam asked. To prove his point, he picked up a ceremonial dagger Connor had laid out to appraise, and impaled his own hand, drawing it back out with a hiss of pain.

Before Sarah's shocked outcry could be voiced, the wound closed.

"Funny, Adam," Duncan scowled. "Some of us enjoy shocking people."

"I believed you before that," she complained. "Because, something even stranger happened to me. I thought it, he was a dream, until now. But if you guys are real, then there's no reason for that not be true as well.''

"Go on," someone prompted, but she had turned inward and all outside voices sounded somewhat the same.

"When I was fifteen, I asked for the goblins to get my kid brother out of my life. Half brother. I resented him and his mother for taking my mom's place and mine. I had a book, the Labyrinth. It said that the king of the goblins loved the girl and gave her powers, and would take the baby if she said the words. I was popping off, but suddenly, he was there... Jareth. The goblin's king. Only he wasn't a goblin, but something else. I've researched, I think he might have been de Dannan..." she failed to see the slight look of surprise on Duncan's mien. He'd often thought maybe that's what they were, the Immortals.  
"I told him, I didn't mean it, I didn't know they would. But, what's said is said. Generously," the word was laced with bitterness, "he let me try to win Toby back. My brother back. Running the labyrinth. If I reached the center of it in thirteen hours, Toby was free. And so, through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered," a slight smile of recollection danced on her face, "I fought my way to the castle at the center and took back the child he st- that I wished away. But..."

"But what?" Brenda asked gently.

"Nothing." Sarah's face had closed off again, wary, looking for signs that they thought she was insane.

The Highlanders looked to the other man, who shook his head. He'd heard nothing of this sort of thing.

"Have you heard from this guy again?" Brenda asked.

Sarah shook her head, sadness forcing her head down so that her hair hid her face. "I think I killed him. I never want to kill anyone again."

"Why do you think that?" Methos asked.

"As I said the words,"

"The wishing ones?" Duncan asked.

"No, different ones, to get Toby back. The world... fell down.. and I was back home."

"You're sure it wasn't a vivid dream?" Brenda asked, very gently.

"I kind of hoped it was, until now. Now, reminders are everywhere. " She waved in Connor's general direction. "He talked about the world turning and falling down, like you do. Peaches. Precious."

"Where was the one ring?" Adam asked. "Gollum."

"Methos," Duncan reprimanded him, then kicked himself. Fortunately, Sarah missed his mistake.

Trying to cover for his cousin, Connor spoke up, "There are only so many words to use. "

She nodded, sadly. "I kind of hoped it was real, even though the thought scares me."

Brenda, relying on her own power, intuitivity, took over the conversation. "Guys, I think now that she knows the truth, she's safe enough. Why don't I give her a lift home, and you three can solve the world's problems while we're gone"  
Connor agreed before the other two could object. "Go on, then. "  
"One question," Sarah said, halting. "Kalas"  
"The short version is, a wolf in monk's habit," Methos explained. "Had an angelic voice, a devil's heart. He wanted to kill all of us, but Duncan killed him. Did you read about a blackout in Paris a few years ago?" She shook her head. "Oh. Well, Duncan caused it when he took Kalas' head."

She looked bewildered.

"The quickening unleashes a burst of electricity," Methos went on, "an electric hurricane. Since they fought on top of the Eiffel tower in a storm, the effects were monumental."

"Come on, Sarah. Between them, they have enough stories to keep you up for a month without sleep, and still not be done." Brenda began to escort her out again, only to be stopped by Connor gravely handing Sarah the sword they'd chosen for her.

Sarah was exhausted when she got home. It had been - quite a day. It was all so unbelievable. Yet, was it more strange than her story? On the way home, she'd asked Brenda a few more questions; the only answer that really bothered her had been whether or not the children she and Connor would have or had had were mortal or Immortal. Brenda's voice deadened a bit when she explained that there were none , nor would there be. Immortals could not have children. Until finding out she could never have one, Sarah hadn't realized she wanted one or more.  
Casually flicking on the tv, she looked to see what was on; Anne of A Thousand Days. Just what she didn't need to see, a movie about women who couldn't produce the right heir and beheading.

Even if he was real and forgave her, what did it matter. Kings had to have heirs.

Stop it, she told herself, deciding to take a walk, even though it was late, and her part of town was not perfectly safe. Early autumn chill in the air made her choose slightly warmer clothes. At the last minute, Sarah decided to take her 'gift' from Connor. Might as well get used to the thing. Maybe her jacket would cover it some. But in this crowded city where a million people lived in isolation, would anyone even notice if she wore it brazenly displayed?  
Her feet took her to the park, not the one that had witnessed her grand rehearsals, but it was close enough. The isolation suited the girl, even if it was unsafe for a young woman to be wandering through it alone as dusk fell. Did that really matter anymore? Early stars had begun appearing, though the sun was only just beginning to sink. The sadness of the twilight fit her mood.  
A dilapidated gazebo stood on one edge of the urban greenery. No one was there, good. It looked like a perfect place to sit and think. Alone. If she really was immortal, then apparently, some kind of observer would be sicced on her as soon as she died and she'd never be really alone again. Cherish the moments left.  
Untold minutes ticked away as Sarah's thoughts wandered the shadows of her mind, losing herself in the hidden paths therein. She didn't hear the boards creek behind her, but she felt a knife prick her skin just under her ear.  
There was no one she could call to that could hear her. Even knowing she would wake up again, she was afraid enough to defy logic, screaming one word into the blue twilight, even as she tried to wrench the sword up and around.  
The wistful feeling that had plauged him for hours exploded at that moment as a voice reached across time and space.  
The punk had nothing to do with the game, was a nobody looking for trouble. He'd never expected the broad to be armed, to fight. Like the coward he was, he ran, with nothing more than a wound for his trouble, leaving behind a young woman rapidly bleeding to death. Her cry alerted a not as distant as she'd group of picnickers who had cell phones that brought an ambulance in less than five minutes. But with all that blood, they all knew she was a goner.  
None of them saw the owl circling the park or heard its cry of rage.  
As the gurney burst into the nearest hospital, doctors rushed it, ready to fight the odds.

"She's got a sword," one of the interns exclaimed.

"Think she tried to whack herself?"

"Someone was seen fleeing, nah. Besides, angles wrong..."

Across the room, another doctor heard the word sword. Anne Lindsay hurried over, trying to see something. It was impossible to be sure, but a safe enough assumption. Knowing how things would turn out, she retreated to make a call. Barely whispering into the phone, "Duncan..you need to get here. Now"  
Then she realized a woman's voice was on the other end. "Amanda? Oh, you're Connor- er Russell's wife. What? All three, drunk? Great. Can you rouse one of them? A- one of them is here... young looking female, sword. Black hair, pale. Arterial bleeding."

She listened a moment. "I can't do that. Fine. Just try to get one of them sober and over here - I'm not the expert in escaping morgues. "

Anne returned to where other doctors tried to keep the girl from meeting her first death. Taking a deep breath, she exclaimed, "Ohmigosh, Sarah!"

One spared her a look. "Know her?"

"She's Duncan's younger cousin, " Anne fibbed, hoping the shock covered her nerves. She couldn't lie worth a darn.

"Better get him here, fast. If we can stop the bleeding, she's gonna need a gallon or so of blood. If there's other family, them too"  
Before she could say he was coming or anything else, someone yelled, "We're losing her.!"

Time either seemed to slow or speed up, Anne could never say which later. The single word NO echoed through her head, but who said it or if it was said was unclear. It did not surprise her too much when Freddie, a young resident suddenly hollered, "No, she's back. She's stabilizing." Anne didn't know how long a death was for Immortals, but apparently this was a fast one. Still, she'd try to keep close, just in case the girl died again. She paused just long enough to flag a passing orderly and tell him to keep an eye out for Mcleod. Either one.

During the next crazy minutes or hours, Anne watched as her comrades stopped Sarah's bleeding and got her to a room. Duncan still wasn't there, damn him. So, she stayed in the room with the girl, sadly watching, wondering.  
Brenda roused the three Immortals and even stopped the two Scots from going after Walter, whom they were sure had done it. Adam, as oldest and most used to drink, recovered first, but Brenda still insisted on driving them all while he borrowed Duncan's cell to call Joe and get him to run down Walter's watcher and find out if he'd been involved.  
She knew moments after they arrived; the ICU nurse made the mistake of trying to explain who was allowed in to see ICU patients, and as they could not prove that they were family, - it was getting interesting. Dr. Lindsay arrived just when the three were about to break Brenda's tenuous control. Luck would have it that Adam was sober as, well, death, Duncan was almost there, and well, Connor never had held whiskey very well, but managed to just stand there and glare rather than open his mouth and get them in hot water.  
"It's okay, Carol. These men are her family. The incident just caught them at a bad time."

Still leery, the nurse agreed to let them in, under Dr. Lindsay's supervision, but only two at a time, which left Brenda and Connor in the waiting room.  
Behind the closed door, Anne looked at Duncan and Methos. "Is she?"

"That's Sarah," Duncan confirmed.

"IS she," Anne repeated.  
"Of course. First death," Adam nodded. "Waking up is taking a while," he frowned. "But the time varies.

"She's drugged pretty well," Anne answered. "If this is her first death, why the sword"  
"It's damn lucky she had it, or you'd not have known to call us," the old one retorted. "We've been watching her for a bit, that's why we were at Connor's. We'd taken her to get a sword earlier."

"I still don't follow. I didn't think you armed anyone until they died once."

"Walter," Duncan answered.

"Who?"

"Long story- but he wanted her, and that's not a good idea. So we wanted her ready for her first death"  
"Does she have family at all?" Anne asked. "It'd be nice to inform them."

"I - don't know," Duncan frowned.

Muttering something about drunken Scots, Methos corrected him, "She told us, half brother, father, step mom. Probably adoptive mother somewhere."

There was a sudden ruckus outside, punctuated by a loud male voice they didn't know and one they did. Connor.

Without a word, Adam and Duncan exited, purposefully striding down the hall to the nurse's station where Connor, Brenda, and a man that looked like a toned down version of one of Connor's usual foes were engaged in a battle - of words.  
The poor nurses were trying to remind them that they were in a hospital while calling for security.

Anne, several paces behind, caught up with Duncan to whisper, "Is he one of"  
Really getting tired of that question, Duncan decided. "Can't tell."

"What?"

"Too many quickenings in a small area. White noise," Methos explained hastily, "Holy ground? Where is it?"

"Downstairs, first floor."

Nodding, he strode forward, dangerous authority increasing with each step. "All right, break it up. We'll just take this- person- in for questioning now." This person turned a cold, beady stare on the ex Horseman, but Methos, now fully in character, returned beady eye for beady eye.  
His gaze did not falter when the head nurse said suspiciously, "You don't look like security. You're Miss Williams' family members."

"That does not preclude the fact that we're undercover, which we have now had to violate because of foolish arguments. If this gets out, it will be your head," his white hot eyes turned on Connor, still tipsy, who giggled at that. "Have you never heard of the witness protection program?" He paused, letting Duncan catch up, then nodded brusquely. Together, they moved towards the stranger who wore a bemused expression mingled with ire.

"Trust us," Duncan said out of the corner of his mouth.  
"I'm hear to see Sarah, and I mean to," the British voiced man informed him, sweeping the room in an Imperial glare. "Blasted iron and electric fields."

"Just come peacefully, and we'll see about it," Duncan hissed, then over his shoulder to Brenda. "Sober him up."

The stranger looked from Duncan to Methos as if reading them, then nodded curtly, allowing himself to be escorted to the chapel's little patch of Holy Ground, leaving Brenda and Ann to deal with the fall out and a very tipsy Highlander who'd consumed two bottles of Scotch single handed. Brenda mentally vowed to pour every drop down the drain, if any was left.  
In silence, the three men went downstairs, manually. Whoever the newcomer was balked at using the elevator.

"No respect for the ancient," Methos grouched, complaining to cover his uncomfortable feeling that someone was poking through his mind and the five thousand years of secrets, some of which he'd not even told himself.  
The hospital chapel was lit only with candles, left by anxious relatives of all denominations. Their guest seemed to fit right in with the eerie light.  
Even though some had speculated that Methos inspired the character Bret Maverick, he'd never been one to gamble. The "gambles" he took were only ones Methos was sure he'd win. So, he opened the game. "Greetings, Goblin King," he said so pleasantly that you'd think he'd been waiting for Jareth's arrival.

The risk paid off; Jareth winced slightly; he hated his title, but nodded. "Thank you, Death."

Duncan looked between them, "You've met before?"

"No, " Methos replied. "It was a reasonable assumption that he was the goblin king Sarah mentioned."

"Assuming you're death is hardly a reasonable assumption," Duncan argued.

"No, it's not," their guest agreed. "Unless you've read his mind, Duncan Mcleod of the clan Mcleod. Do you really introduce yourself that way? Rather pretentious for this world."

Methos hid his knife edged smile. This should prove... interesting.  
"So, we know who we are," the king said, removing himself from custody to take a seat, leaving them standing. ''And I've read your minds superficially. Enough so to consent to being escorted in the opposite direction I wish to go by two men I can tell are concerned about the same person I care for and offer them the opportunity to help me avenge her."

"She's not dead," Duncan corrected. "She'd be awake now if they hadn't anesthesized her." Then, realizing that if Sarah's story was real, as it appeared to be and Methos was right as well, then this fellow might not know what anesthesia was. "They put her to sleep, that is, so that-"

"I know the word," Jareth said testily. "And yes, I know, she did die, but rewoke. This is unusual for your world, and I want it explained, later. "

"Why not read our minds?" Duncan asked tensely.

"Because, I do attempt to limit rudeness. I only skimmed your mind's surfaces to determine basic facts and allegiances. "

Both men tried not to show how relieved they were about that. It did disturb Duncan to know that Methos old life was close enough to the surface for that to be seen, but maybe, hopefully, it was something that even changed, he could not ever completely escape being haunted by.

"We do not know for certain who did this," Methos began carefully.  
"If we're right, the person did not mean to kill her permanently," Duncan attested.

"It wasn't Walter," Methos tossed off.

"It wasn't?" The Highlander's eyes swung over to his friend.  
"He'd have shot her in the gut just to bring her to metamorphases. The neck is too risky; he could have slipped and butchered her voice, like Kalas, or worse. Where the cut was won't damage her permanently, but even Walter's not that foolhardy to cut the line so fine."

"I don't know who Walter is," Jareth drawled, but I saw who did this. They'd be dead or suspended in the bog for eternity if seeing to Sarah wasn't a primary concern." And, he silently added - if the electric wires and what not didn't bollux his magic. Mind reading was just another sense, requiring little to no magic. Transporting was more complicated, else he'd have landed in Sarah's room rather than outside it.

Before another word could be said, like asking for a description, Princes of the Universe began playing in the silence. Duncan managed to not look embarrassed as he withdrew his cell phone. "Mcleod. Yeah, we already figured that out, thanks Joe. No, I won't tell you how, you wouldn't believe me." Hanging up, he casually informed them, "Dawson says Walter has been home since leaving rehearsal in a huff. Apparently three of the performers disappeared, including the star. He's called no one that would answer their phone."

"Imagine that," Methos observed drily. "The wonders of caller ID are marvelous, no?"

"Anyhow, the odds of his being involved are pretty much nil."

"Too bad, I really wanted to kill him."

Jareth cleared his throat. The King of the Goblins did not like being ignored, at least by humans. Being ignored by his subjects was blessed relief. "Tell me about Sarah."

"First, how'd you know she was hurt?" Duncan questioned in return.

"I heard my name, screamed. When I arrived, there was a crowd of mortals around her and I could see a coward running away in the distance. Now, my answer."

Telling someone the whole Immortal story twice in one day was unusual, but so be it. Taking turns, Duncan and Methos explained as much of the game as they knew. Or in Methos' case, as he would share.

"Sarah is Immortal?" Jareth asked, wanting to be sure he had it right.

"Now that she has been killed, yes," Duncan affirmed.

"This game- is it confined to this world?"

The Immortals looked at each other, not sure what he was saying.

"Until this day, we didna ken there were other worlds," Duncan stated, unconciously reverting to his native tongue.  
Jareth nodded. "So, if Sarah went to another world, such as mine, for rhetoric purposes, she would be removed from this game."

"As long as no hunter followed her," Methos agreed.

"Hunter?"

"Some of the other Immortals are very serious about winning," Methos explained. "They fail to see that it'll be lonely as hell for the winner when the others are gone. Fortunately for those of us who merely wish to survive, the evil ones often make fatal errors. Arrogance is a by product of such personalities as theirs. "

"I see. " Jareth appeared to be deep in thought. "Removing someone from this world might even change the nature of this contest, yes?"

"I've never considered that," Methos mulled aloud. "Duncan?"

"Until '69, 1969, that is, there was no possibility of venturing to other worlds at all that we knew of. I do admit, when I watched the moon landing, I wondered if we lived on other stars how things would go for the game."

"Really, we can't know for sure," Methos shrugged.

"What does Sarah think of me, now?" Jareth abruptly changed the subject.  
The two men were startled by the leap, but considered the question, recalling her story. She'd been spooked, but there was sadness too, regret, something more. Duncan had seen it on Cassandra's face in an unguarded moment as Methos was at her mercy, when her hate cracked a bit. If he'd not seen that naked honesty, he would have interceded with a sword for his brother's life. But when he saw that, he'd dared to ask for that life, knowing she had no choice but to grant it.

"She thinks you dead, but hopes not," he admitted.

Jareth's magic had returned in this place, so he formed a set of crystals, juggling them reflectively. "Does she hate my memory?"

"You'd have to ask her," Duncan replied, softly. "I think she's struggling to separate a girl's confusion and a woman's feelings." Again, Cassandra flashed through his mind. As a child, she'd terrified him and awed him in a way he was not ready for; then they met again. It had been different, realer.

"Besides," Methos added, "while logic and female are not two words normally coupled, you said you heard her scream your name. No idea how that would occur- don't explain. But I sincerely doubt that she would holler for a man she hates or fears. Had she been thinking, Duncan or I would've been the logical name to call, actually - no one would qualify as such, but - any case, she picked your name out of all the names she knows, on pure instinct."

"Very well. I shall, but getting to her will not be simple."

"Sure it will. We're about the same size," Methos contradicted him. "I can drive home and get some clothes - or Duncan, can Anne round up some scrubs? As a doctor, he'd be able to get in anywhere around here"  
"I was thinking that we'd just have Anne declare Sarah dead, she's got to start her new life sometime. Then we'd just sneak her out of here. I can try and locate Amanda, she could steal a hearse to transport her to one of our homes."

"That girl will never go legit if you keep asking her to steal," Methos chided.

""Tis what she does."

"If you can bring her here, " Jareth interupted, "away from all the interference, nothing need be stolen. I can move her."

"Where to?" Duncan asked.

Jareth had intended to go straight to his home, but reconsidered. "Where do you suggest?"

"If you can get her to the garage, Brenda will drive us all somewhere safe to assess things."

"I'll need to see it first. Transporting blind is risky,'' Jareth warned.

"Just use Anne's clout to manipulate red tape and check Sarah out, " Methos said.

"The condition that she came in?" Duncan shook his head."Anne'd be risking too much to just let her go. Faking death is the only way to keep her out of trouble."

"We'd better decide soon," Methos reminded. "Some bright boy is going to get the idea that she needs a transfusion; and how well will that go I ask? Not. Modern medicine could unmask us all."

Before the debate could continue, the door opened to let Brenda and Connor enter. "What have we missed?" she asked.

"Is he sober?" Duncan asked.

"Aye. " Connor grimaced. "She took me in a broom closet and stabbed me to death."

"Extreme," Methos noted. "But it does work, with no hangover."

"I've seen him with a hangover. Killing him is best," Brenda shuddered.

"We need to get the king here into Sarah's room, or her out of her room and out of here. Or both," Methos went on. "Any brilliant ideas? Or less than brilliant?"

"Get her to the morgue. From there it's a piece of cake," Connor said. "We've done that routine a dozen times each."

Jareth scowled. He really hated that term.

"The problem will be, she does have a family that thinks she's part of it," Brenda sighed. "Even if we use this as her drop out point, how will we explain no body to bury to them?"

"Cremation?" Duncan suggested.

"You three might claim to be family, but only real family, legally, can authorize that."

"But that's be charm of paperwork," Methos smiled. "It gets mixed up and addled so easily." We can come up with some sort of ashes easily - or Sarah can write a back dated will that says that she wished to be cremated. "

"Sounds like the best plan," Brenda agreed. "But run it by Anne, since it's her tail on the line if we screw up."

"What do human ashes look like anyhow?" Connor asked.

No one bothered to reply. Then, Jareth stopped dead in his tracks. Dealing with humans had obviously addled him.

"There's no need for any of this."

"Forgive us, your worship," Duncan mocked him, "but here, disappearing people tend to cause a stir."

"Unless David Copperfield is in town," Connor added, causing Methos to look like he'd seriously enjoy killing him again.

Jareth sighed mentally. These - whatever they were, were fortunate that he was patient today. "Sarah did not allow me time enough to explain this when first we met, but when I take a child to my realm, they are forgotten by this world. So - once I am in her room, it's all taken care of."

"Assuming she wishes to go with you," Methos just had to say. "Or does she get a choice?" His hand rested casually on his sword's pommel.

"It seems awful that she just be forgotten," Brenda said softly.

"In a way, yes, " Jareth admitted, "but less awful that for all who knew her to live wondering where she was."

"But that's what we're trying to prevent with all these gyrations and red tape," Methos pointed out. "Must she be forgotten? I know her little, but she is a kind soul, one who deserves at least a memory." His voice had dropped several tones. "Besides, you usually take babies, no? Erasing such a tiny life possibly is a simple thing, at least in theory. But Sarah is twentish. The holes she'd leave are larger. "

Jareth nodded, knowing that Sarah would not be pleased with vanishing as if she'd never been. "Very well, but should things become too - complex, it's my way"  
"Fair enough, " Brenda agreed speedily. "Now, let's get this over with. I'm exhausted."

"We can't go trooping around like this," Methos pointed out. "Duncan is a fairly familiar face, he should find Anne. Your majesty, would you mind staying in the chapel? Most people don't look like you," he said in the careful tone he'd often used to get by Kronos' wrath. "I'm fairly unremarkable, by choice. Getting into the morgue to wait for Sarah should be fairly easy."

"We could put you on a gurney under a sheet," Brenda suggested.

"Even kill you," Connor added helpfully. "What? He'd wake up. Just tryin' ta be believable. "

"If we're putting anyone under a sheet, it should be Jareth," Duncan dissented. "He could zap or pop them out."

"What about that needing to see where to go part?" Methos contributed. "I know how to get out of a morgue. But clothes- anyone thought of that?"

"She is not to be paraded around this building nude," Jareth growled. Waving a hand, he produced a long white dress.

"Can we aim for modern?" Methos wondered aloud.

"It's the dress I first saw her in," Jareth countered.

"We are wasting time," Duncan reminded them all. "It's less revealing and so on than a hospital gown, so Methos, hang onto it. Connor, find a gurney, put laughing boy under it, shut up, and get a move on. Jareth, if you can change into something less showy, you can come with me or Connor, or anyone. "  
"Of course," and a shower of glitter later, a toned down version of the goblin king stood there, still looking a bit over dressed, but not enough to raise tired eyebrows.

By the time Duncan and Jareth found Anne, she was running out of ways to keep anyone mortal out of Sarah's room and regretting ever meeting Duncan Mcleod. With great relief, she declared Sarah Williams dead and helped Duncan load her onto a gurney.

"How much longer will she sleep?" Jareth asked.

"Now that the morphine drip is off, however long it takes one of you guys to shake off being drugged, " she said noncommittally.

"A few hours, probably, " Duncan said reassuringly, recalling when a mad scientist had gotten hold of him. "It's helpful for her to be dead to the world right now. Anne, scrubs?"

She ducked out, returning a few minutes later. "Just guessing on his size," she jerked her head towards the stranger. "I remember yours, Duncan. Sarah's clothes were kind of ruined, sorry. I'll just step in the bathroom while you change," she finished, blushing.

A few minutes later, they began the last stage of escape. Connor and Methos had knocked out the morgue doctors as nicely as possible. Getting to the garage would be complicated, so Brenda had taken a moment to rouse Dawson, who now waited in the area reserved for hearses. Fortunately, several years ago he'd thought to put a retired Watcher on duty as a security guard on the hospital lot, figuring that with two Mcleods, Methos and whoever else was around, it might be handy. Luck had it that Dawson's man was on duty and looked the other way as an unorthodox hearse took the odd lot to Mac's barge.

It was nearly dawn before they were there. Connor recovered his chivalrous streak and carried Brenda in; she was fading as adrenalin drained out of her. Methos for once opted for coffee, strong enough to stand on its own. Jareth refused to let anyone else carry Sarah in, setting her gently on a chaise lounge one of Mac's lady friends had bought. That left Mac's bed for Brenda. Joe took Richie's old room, deciding a nap would be in order since the people he was supposed to Watch were being cagey. It came as no surprise that Mac's answering machine's quota was exceeded; thanks to Caller Id, they didn't have to actually listen to Walter's blathering messages.

"Someone ought to call," Methos opined. "Not that I'm volunteering"  
"I'll call Rachel first, give you a bit of a delay, " Connor yawned. "Tell 'r to run the shop for me or let it be closed for a day. Don't care. 'prised the bloody haggis didna call yer cell, Duncan."

"Didn't give 'm the number."

"I trained ye well"  
"Could call him on the cell while Connor ties up the real phone," Methos suggested helpfully.

"He's not on my family and friends plan. Don't want to go over the minutes now do I?" Duncan protested, a good Scot to the bone.  
Methos glanced out the porthole. "Well, don't tie it up too long- it's nearly dawn. You really ought to disturb his sleep."

Jareth looked up from where Sarah slept. "You are sure this is normal"  
"What? Our evil minds, Duncan being a cheapskate or Sarah's sleep?" Methos asked.

"Sarah. I don't give a damn about any of you."

"Hey," Connor yelled, as he hung up.

"Do you want me to lie?"

"There are two kinds of lies; one is acceptable, one not, " Methos carefully explained. "The acceptable kind is called being polite."

"All right- is meanness and stinginess normal around here?"

"Some days, yes."

The three immortals suddenly tensed. "Sleeping beauty wakes soon," Methos whispered.

Jareth quirked a brow.

"Her quickening stirs, " Connor also whispered.  
The king started to move closer, but a bony hand stopped him. "Trust me on this one, " Methos kept his voice low. "Being beside a possibly agitated woman waking for the first time- not a good plan." His jaw flexed in memory of Cassandra's three thousand year gone slap. He did not imagine she'd told Mac how much of a hellcat she'd been.  
She would have been a worthy bride if only she'd trusted him to get them out of there, even if it took centuries.

"I wish my face to be the one she wakes to," Jareth said in a low, slightly threatening voice. "Stand aside." Then, seeing the doubt, even concern, added, "If she strikes me, so be it."

Romantic fool, Methos thought, but deferred.

Jareth sat on the ottoman Duncan had shoved close to the chaise, watching as life began to return to her still face. When her breath suddenly gasped, he held his. Opening her blue eyes wide, Sarah's first words as an Immortal were,

"Jareth. Am I dead after all?"

"Went better than I hoped," Methos noted, still whispering.  
The goblin king smiled. "You were, but you must not have enjoyed it. "

Tears now formed, confused tears. "But I killed you." One hand reached out to him, wanting.

He captured it. "Hardly. Just a bit of my pride. " And he lifted it to his lips to kiss softly. "I rather fancy you'd say it was a warranted execution."

The other men joined him at her side. "Welcome back, little girl, " Connor rumbled before she could reply. "Try na to take wounds above your shoulders. They're a bitch to heal."

"Did that miscreant harm your vocal cords?" Methos asked, praying not. Not only would it be a crime against nature, but Mcleod would likely see it as a personal stroke of retribution against him- ruining the voice of someone in his care in return for reducing Kalas' angelic voice to one more suited to his actual nature. The possible brooding over it was enough to make all his friends leave for distant shores.

Sarah looked bewildered. "Just sing a note or two," he suggested.  
Jareth nodded when her eyes seemed to ask him for something, was it permission?  
Not sure what to sing, she tried to first thing that came to her mind, his song.

Relief swept through. Her voice was a little hoarse from being silent for hours, but it was fine.

"What happened?" Sarah asked next.

"We'd hoped you'd be able to tell us," Connor scowled.

"We can tell her most of it," Duncan told him. "You were in the park, someone heard you scream and found you lying there, bleeding to death. They got you to the hospital, fortunately you had your sword, and a doctor there, one of my exes, put two and two together. Swords just aren't normal accessories. So Anne called me, and we showed up and got you out of there. Unfortunately, your first death didn't last too long, and when you started to come out of it, they drugged you fairly thoroughly. Officially, you are dead, and being cremated. "  
Her gaze moved back to Jareth. "How did you get here?"

His eyes were probing. "Don't you remember, Sarah?" Her head shook. "I heard you call for me."

"Still not sure how that works? Do you live in a tree?" Methos asked.

"Walter will be so grateful you learned your lines, " Duncan sarcastically said.  
"I'd hoped with Sarah being, well dead, we could drop out. "

"Do my parents know?" Sarah asked.

"Anne told us she'd hold off on calling, " Duncan said reassuringly. "But you canna stay here. Someone might see you that was in the hospital and knows that you have a death certificate on file. " He paused uncomfortably. "Eventually, you'll have to say goodbye, start over as someone else."

"Oh, I don't know. Some of us wander around with the same name for four hundred years or so, and get books penned about them," Methos smirked. "Does the name Caroline Marsh ring anything?"

"Shut up, auld man," Duncan frowned.

"I read her books, never linked you with the hero," Sarah admitted.

"My eternal thanks for that."

"I had hoped," Sarah sighed, her fingers worrying the afghan someone had draped on her, "to delay being in the game. I don't know that I can kill"  
Jareth sensed his opportunity. "You need not." When she turned a quizzical look on him, he elaborated. "I realize now that you did not understand, that you were too young and worried for Toby to hear what I really said, but I never retracted the offer. Come, live in the Underground. The office of queen is still empty, waiting for -- for you."

Sarah's eyes sparked with joy, she so wanted to say yes, now that she had that second chance, but Brenda's words, about children, killed that hope.  
"I'm not," she mumbled. "I'd be a terrible queen." She could not look at him.  
"It's a fairly simple job," Jareth urged, then someone took his arm. Furious that someone dare interupt, he began to turn angrily, but something in Mcleod's face stopped him.

"She's had a dozen or more shocks in less than twenty four hours, " Duncan advised. "Come on to the front with me. I might need help threatening Walter"  
Reluctantly, the king agreed; although threatening Walter did sound cheerful to him.

When they'd gone, Methos sent Connor to find some kind of breakfast for Sarah. At least tea and toast, something that the Highlander's poor cooking couldn't do too much to.

"Okay, now tell me the truth, Sarah. I saw yes written all over your face. You may be a great actress, but as a liar, not so good."

"Brenda told me about the children thing"  
"Yes, well, pregnancy would make one of us rather vulnerable. At least the female half of us. "

"I know, but Jareth will need an heir, something I can't give him. So at best, I could be a royal whore," Sarah murmured, barely able to form the words. "I can't do that."

"Ever thought about giving him a say in that?"

"We barely know each other," she tried. "When we met before, it was under awful circumstances, and now.."

"I got the idea he's spent a few years, however many it has been, just waiting for you to call for him. Maybe you don't love him-"

"I do. It makes no sense, but I do."

"But having watched men and women become besotted over the last few - five thousand years, I'd say he is head over heels. " There was a brief glimmer of hope, that died.  
"He is king. He can't put love first."

Methos shrugged. "That's on this world. Maybe there, it won't matter," Methos urged, cajoling, calling on every skill he had as a master manipulator. Yet he only spoke truth. "He lives somewhere beyond this present world. Think on this, Sarah. There is no game there. The swords and quickenings are of this world. You won't have to take heads or avoid it by hiding on Holy ground"  
He could see she was cracking a bit. Thought he might've lost his touch for a moment. "It's surely a big world there. You could at least live there, even if -"

Now he'd said too much. "No. All or nothing," Sarah said quickly.

"Fine. But give him a chance, " Methos conceded. "Sarah, he is the one chance you have to have a love that can live as long as you. If you stay here, you may love a dozen or more mortal men, and have to either leave them or watch them die. Duncan has done that time and again with the women he loves. From Deborah Campbell to Tessa Noel. Every one of them has either died or he's had to move on. Connor has only truly loved twice. Brenda, and his first love, Heather. He loved her when he was young, and so was she, stayed with her until she was ancient, loving her still. He died a bit when she did. Me, I've had enough romances and true loves to fill a library of Carolyn Marshy books. And without exception, it's hurt like Hell to lose them. I only dared love an Immortal once, and she tried her best to kill me. Even Immortal love is doomed thanks to the gathering. "

Tears fell down her face. "Adam,"

"Methos. My name is Methos. " He knew that she did not recognize it, nor realize what he'd given her, but he knew how valuable it was.  
"Methos, then. If - he does not, can not, will you- please.."

"Sarah, I may not be as chivalrous as our misplaced Sirs Galahad Mcleod, but I will not take your head. I will help you live with half your heart gone"  
"You will not," the words were shot out flatly behind them. They looked up to see a very pissed Jareth standing framed by the sun.

"What did you hear?" Methos asked tentatively.

"Sarah asking you to kill her and you refusing. Wise man. Sarah, why would you want to die?" Jareth's long strides brought him to her side; Methos barely moved away in time not to be shoved out of his place.

"If - if you can't love me, I ," her words trailed off miserably.

Methos had the grace to turn his back to avoid witnessing the kind of kiss that was emminently private.

"Silly girl, have you not realized that much yet"  
Jareth had tried to anger her a bit, to revive her fire, but failed. "They didn't tell you?" Sarah asked. "I - none of us can have kids. Even I know that in a queen that is unacceptable."

Jareth was impressed at her forethought, faulty though it might be.  
"How do you know this for sure?"

"No Immortal in the last five millenia has ever sired or given birth to a child," Methos said with a degree of authority.

Jareth mulled this. "It matters little, actually. While I am not certain that what is true of this realm would be true in mine, the fact that death is reasonably irrelevant in my land makes birth a precious event, but not a requisite one for marriage to be allowed. What do I need an heir for if I don't plan on dying- ever."

Methos could not stop a grin from blooming on his craggy face. In all his logical manipulations, he'd never thought of that. Though being called irrelevant burned a bit.

"So, " Jareth went on, forcing Sarah to look at him and not turn away. "Do you love me or not, Sarah? " Unsaid was, if she said yes, that was it. Nothing would keep him from making her his forever.

She knew this, but knowing it did not stop her from whispering, "Always."

"That settles it then," Jareth kissed her, but a bit less than before so as not to embarrass Methos. "You need not worry about any games with anyone but me, and those are ones we both win."

"I'm too young to hear things like this, " Methos declared. "I'll go help Connor try not to burn the toast." His long nose twitched, "Too late." A second later, a hideous beeping let them know he'd set off the smoke alarm. "Cover her ears, Jareth. She is definitely too young to hear Connor curse. He's quite good at it."

Methos decided to bypass the kitchen and went in search of Duncan, who was still arguing with Walter.

"I told you, she's not available to speak. No, if you come over here, I will take your head. I almost did before."

Methos leaned on the rail and lit a cigarette to watch the show. Duncan was on the verge of pulling out what was left of his hair after that butcher job he did in the monastery.

"Let me talk to him, Mac." Methos snagged the phone deftly. "Walter, you are welcome to argue with the man who fully intends to take Sarah to his castle in the clouds or whatever. However, I'd think thrice if I were you. Yes, you knucklehead, he's immortal and very dangerous. No, you can't speak to him now. He's rather - busy, and I personally don't wish to be thrown into that bog he has told us about. Oh, you haven't heard of it. Eternal stench. Smell bad forever. And that's if you're lucky. By the way, did you have anything to do with her dying last night?" No one could mistake the danger that entered his voice , killing all pleasantness, transforming it to the voice of death.

Even across the deck, Duncan could hear the vehement denial. "I already asked."

Methos flipped him off.

"Walter, I believe you, for now, but if I find that you are lying," Methos

laughed, "Has anyone ever told you how creatively I can kill? And that was in the old days, they've invented chainsaws now"  
Duncan had to fight to keep a straight face until Methos hung up. "Where'd you get that line?"

Methos shrugged. "Buffy the vampire slayer. The Gellar girl is rather cute, don't you think?"

"She uses chainsaws on people?"

"No, her boyfriend does. Think I have a chance?"

Duncan snorted.

"Well, you never can tell," Methos said philosophically. "Stranger things are happening. But I really didn't get the chainsaw idea from there. After the whole Watcher wars round one, Horton, you recall, I wanted to dig about and find if there were loose ends hanging. Did not know about Jacob. But I was looking for Watcher problems, not rouges of our kind. I found Horton's journal. He had some creative ideas to- kill and kill again some of us. During a break, he imagined a variety of ways to shut Fitzcairn up without taking his head yet. Ever notice how much Hugh looks like that rock star?" he asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Right, your musical tastes are stodgy. Roger Daltrey, of the Who? Horton didn't want to hear the Who, I suppose."

"You're obviously over tired," Duncan bit out. "What's going on below?" He could call Methos brother easily, but sometimes his weird humor was too much.  
"Connor is destroying your galley and I'd not go below unless you want to see more than you should, possibly. I predict a Disney movie out of it. Except any Disney princess in her right head would probably run screaming from the guy Sarah's necking with."

Duncan could not help but laugh, and agree. "Hardly Prince Phillip or Charming."

"Yeah, well, I guess I'm hardly one to talk, with the whole blue paint bit," Methos added ruefully. "But it was in fashion at the time."

They heard a step behind them. "How's a guy supposed to sleep with your cousin stinkin' up the place with burning - who knows what?" Joe grumbled.  
"We don't know if he's a cousin actually," Duncan answered absently. "Just a convenient term."

"Mmhmpf. Well, I think you're gonna need a new fire extinguisher. Brenda's in there helpin' him clean up. The main cabin's locked."

"Figures. Hope they don't pop out before they unlock it," Methos said, flinging his cigarette over the side into the water.

"We won't," a soft voice said. Turning, they looked up to see Sarah, glowing, leaning on Jareth's arm.

For a moment, they just stared at the radiant couple, with a bit of envy, then, it hit Methos. "No buzz."

"Maybe you just two cancelled -" Joe began.

"No, " Duncan agreed. "Since the Horseman incident, we're sort of Siamese twins, metaphysically. We don't cancel out other quickenings. "

"Did you un Immortalizie her?" Joe asked.

"No, but perhaps a change?" Jareth mused. "It little matters to Sarah or I. Might be something to ponder for you Immortals. To break up the agony of eternity without - ? I'll leave you the puzzle, as Sarah and I have the Prize we need. But we wanted to say goodbye."

"Just like that?" Duncan asked. "But"  
Sarah led Jareth over to the three men; he would not let her hand out of his and had little choice but to follow. "Give them the gift."

Jareth's free hand formed a crystal that he pitched to Methos. "Tell whatever story you like, and it will be accepted as truth about where Sarah is. Even the real truth will be unquestioned. Though, I have heard of your scandal sheets, if it makes the covers of one of those, I will not be pleased."

"Jareth, don't you dare put them in the bog."

"Wouldn't dream of it, but reporters, I won't promise."

"Don't worry," Methos drawled. "I was a spin doctor before there were doctors. Tragic accident. Bright young star murdered by random thug. True, just leaves out the Immortal part. As to Walter..." he shrugged. "Duncan can take him on."

"Thanks so much."

The door opened again. Brenda came out coughing. "Your kitchen looks like a quickening hit it."

Jareth looked bored with this world. "Clear the room. I'll send a goblin team to restore order. Any other loose ends?"

His question might have been prophetical; a car door slammed down the pier, and Walter began to come towards them.  
Duncan looked to heaven. "Forget the kitchen, can you send the goblins after him?"

"Who is it?" Jareth asked, not really wanting to turn his goblins loose to no purpose.

"Walter," Sarah sighed.

"The idiot. Yes, the goblins would be more effective at harrassment than cleaning," Jareth mused as he watched Walter fume his way down the long stretch of pier.  
Jareth looked sidlong at Sarah. "But first, an exit?"

She gave him a half smile and nod. "Duncan, Joe, Connor, Brenda, Methos, thank you. For everything."

Jareth added. "Yes. Thank you. All right, Sarah, but this is the last time. And get used to me reading your mind."

Try as she might, she could not look irritated. Not with him, after the joyful relief of knowing she'd not killed him. Of finding him again.

Quickly, she gave Brenda a sisterly hug, then kissed each man on the cheek, clarifying what Jareth meant by last time.

Then, she stepped back into his arms. Just as Walter got near enough to the barge that he wouldn't have to yell too loudly and strain his delicate vocal cords, Jareth made sure that he was looking directly at Sarah, then bent, kissed her and they vanished without so much as a sparkle of glitter to mark the passage.

Walter stopped dead in his tracks. "I thought I saw Sarah and some - some --"

"Sarah? Sarah who?" Methos asked too innocently.

Duncan shook his head. "How much have you had to drink, Walter"  
At that moment, a couple of goblins appeared at Walter's feet, tugging on his tailored duster with grubby hands.  
He looked down, visibly paling. "Uh, I don't know"  
"Maybe you should go home and forget Sarah," Methos suggested, fingering the globe.

"Yes, right. Get off me you little "

"Walter, if you curse around my wife, it's your head," Connor called.

"You'd cuss too if these things were -" then they vanished.

"Oh dear. Duncan, can I borrow your couch? I think I shouldn't be driving..."

I DON'T OWN THEM- WOULDN'T EVEN WANT WALTER 


End file.
